


Ten, Plus One

by Soapbubblesoul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Longing, M/M, Married Couple, Mpreg, Naked Cuddling, Professional Basketball, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing Clothes, high school sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/pseuds/Soapbubblesoul
Summary: For most, ten is just a number. For Yifan, it's Yixing.





	1. 10

**Author's Note:**

> Originally intended for the mpreg fest, but real life got in the way of meeting their deadline :~: Eternal thanks to Lo for being my ever-reliable beta, putting up with the mess of this fic.  
>  **There is no mention of mpreg in the first chapter! If you feel uncomfortable with mpreg, you can still read the first chapter** and just pretend it's a pwp or something.
> 
> This fic is the sequel to [Irresistible Idiot](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7463997), but you can read it as a standalone work.

The second floorboard to the right, as well as the fifth and eighth on the left, squeak when stepped on. So, Yifan makes sure to avoid them when he sneaks into the flat, way past midnight. Instead of throwing his car keys into the wooden bowl they have set on the cupboard in the hallway, he places them carefully next to it. Yifan is well aware that he might be overly cautious, their bedroom is nestled at the far end of their flat, but he doesn't want to risk disturbing his husband's sleep in any way.

Over the previous three days, Yixing has been away on a business trip, paying one of his company‘s important customers an on-site visit. Even though the younger man kept saying he slept at reasonable times, and for reasonable lengths of time, Yifan knows that his husband simply didn't want to make him worry. Yixing has a penchant for pushing himself to his limits—and past them, as well. He already works hard when he’s at home but when he’s visiting customers, he’s always eager to deliver results that far exceed the set expectations. It leads to him never getting an adequate amount of sleep. So, now that Yixing’s back, he’ll will have a lot of rest to catch up on.

A silent sigh escapes Yifan as he shrugs out of his jacket to hang it on the coat rack. That morning, he had still harboured the hope of getting to see his husband awake when he returned at night, but he quickly came to realize that his magazine photoshoot would drag out into the early morning hours.

A three day business trip doesn't only mean that Yixing is lacking sleep, it also means that Yifan is lacking Yixing. Whenever the older repeats it to himself— _just three days_ —it doesn't sound like much at all. Yet it feels like an eternity. This is not Yixing's first business trip, nor was it the longest. But during the off-season, a single day Yifan is apart from his husband is too much already. Especially since the first game of the season is drawing closer and closer. It's why he was really looking forward to pulling his husband into his arms, to hear the younger's voice undistorted by static.

 _It's just one more night_ , he tells himself, _you will manage one more night without hearing his voice_.

Yifan’s hands are already poised at the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it over his head, when he steps into the living room. If he strips out of his clothes now, instead of in their bedroom, it minimizes the noise he makes before slipping under the sheets to join his husband. But, as soon as he flips the light switch, that thought is forgotten.

For a split second Yifan wonders why he didn‘t already anticipate the sight that greets him, the warm illumination of the lightbulb falling softly onto Yixing's sleeping features. His hair, which is just on the verge of growing long enough for his natural curls to resurface, is dishevelled and his mouth hangs slightly agape. Yifan's heart squeezes at the cuteness of his husband, but he can't deny the twinge of guilt he feels.

He has long since given up telling Yixing that he should not stay up and wait for him, _especially_ when he‘s tired. The seniors from Yixing's workplace have nicknamed him "little sheep" and Yifan knows exactly where they're coming from. His husband certainly is as stubborn as a sheep.

Yifan swallows once in hope of alleviating the way his heart beats heavy with regret, before crossing the distance between the door frame and the couch. As soon as he has come to a halt beside it, he crouches down silently.

"Sorry I took so long," he whispers under his breath, brushing Yixing's unruly hair away from his forehead to place a soft kiss against it, "I'm home now."

Yifan has no trouble lifting his husband off the couch. He moves carefully as he slips his arms beneath Yixing‘s body in the hope that he won‘t wake the other, but Yixing has always been a light sleeper.

"You're back," Yixing mumbles against the skin of Yifan's neck as he instinctively curls towards the scent and warmth of his husband.

Yixing's voice is coloured with sleep, his pronunciation slurred as his mouth is too lazy to form the sounds accurately, but there‘s an unmistakable undertone of relief and happiness there.

„I am,“ Yifan hums, and his hold tightens slightly in response to his husband‘s display of affection.

He presses a kiss to the crown of Yixing's head as he starts moving down the hallway with steady steps. Their apartment is rather small, despite the money Yifan's contract keeps bringing in. They’d been looking at bigger places but they stopped when Yixing admitted that he doesn't want more space. “ _It’ll just make the place feel even emptier when you're not here.”_ Yifan needed no further convincing. He would have stayed in a one-bedroom-apartment with Yixing, if the other had asked him to.

In spite of the short distance, Yixing's breathing has already evened out again by the time Yifan steps across the threshold of their bedroom. The smaller male has curled himself around Yifan, trying to get as close to his husband as he possibly can. It pulls Yifan’s lips into a fond smile to witness Yixing's sleepy affection.

He tries to lower Yixing onto the bed but the younger refuses to let go, clinging to Yifan's shirt, and whining when Yifan gently tries to pry his fingers away. The older is tempted to just follow the Yixing’s request to sink onto the mattress next to him, still fully dressed. He, too, feels only reluctance to part for the few moments it'll take Yifan to get rid of their clothes.

Yixing is wearing one of Yifan's old jerseys from college, the "WU” and the “10" already cracked and faded from years of wear and tear. It's Yixing's favourite lounging outfit. The younger doesn't like restrictive clothing, and the sleeveless jersey is undoubtedly oversized on Yixing's slim torso. Though, the main reason why Yixing keeps wearing these jerseys though is because they are Yifan's.

And because ten is _their_ number.

It used to be Yixing’s, when they first met back in high school. Yixing was a year below Yifan, and where Yixing excelled in arts, Yifan was all about languages and sports. They had no overlapping friends or schedules, until Yixing decided to join the basketball team in his second year. But while basketball is nothing but a hobby for Yixing, it has always been Yifan’s passion, one he wanted to pursue as a career.

So when he got scouted by the Guangdong Southern Tigers, he chose the _ten_ , to always have his fiancé's presence with him on the court. And when he’s away from home, the jerseys make Yixing feel like Yifan is around. Even after so many years, it still makes Yifan feel all warm and fuzzy to see Yixing wear the number, too.

But right now, he's craving skin to skin contact. He just needs the comfort of Yixing's warm body pressed right against his bare chest. No matter how comfortable his own training outfit is, or how fond he is of seeing Yixing in his jersey, the clothes have to go.

"Xingie," he whispers, hands moving to massage along Yixing's scalp as he leans down to press a kiss to Yixing's earlobe. "Give me two minutes to get both of us undressed, and then we can be even closer."

He half expects further resistance from his husband. Yixing grumbles in reluctance at first, but then he cooperates by releasing his hold on Yifan. When the older moves away, Yixing even sits up to sleepily pull off his own shirt, only to then wait for the taller to return and strip him out of his sweatpants. Yifan's laugh at his lover's laziness gets stifled by Yixing's whine, and instead of being amused, the older hurries to get rid of their clothes because he doesn't want to keep his husband waiting any longer.

The moment they're finally both in bed, Yixing snuggles into Yifan's chest. That's when something in Yifan settles. Yixing's skin is warm against his, and smooth beneath his fingertips as he traces arbitrary patterns over his husband's hip. Even with the additional weight on his rib cage, he can suddenly breathe easier.

"God, it's been too long," he whispers into Yixing's hair, deeply inhaling the other's scent.

His voice is barely more than a puff of breath, so quiet that he expects Yixing's drowsy mind to not pick up on the words. But, Yixing shifts slightly to press a soft kiss against Yifan's sternum before nuzzling back into his previous spot. "It really has been," he agrees.

Yifan hums in contentment as Yixing’s breathing evens out with sleep. He tightens his hold, so Yixing doesn’t get startled when he shifts to get more comfortable. Tiredness weighs his body down but he refuses to give in to morpheus’ beckoning yet. The moonlight provides sparse illumination, reminding Yifan that he forgot to draw the curtains. He doesn’t mind, however, since the lighting gives him the chance to study Yixing’s features for a bit longer. All the while, he wonders how he managed to get this lucky. Not many people manage to  marry their high school sweethearts. Sometimes Yifan is still surprised that he and Yixing managed to stay together through all their changes, through the ups and downs, but they did.

He still remembers the interviews, right after he and Yixing got married.

_"A dashing, successful basketball player like you, tying the knot at such young age. You're barely twenty-two, how can you be so sure to have found the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with? Aren’t you worried you rushed into things?”_

And even now, more than three years later, his answer is still the same.

“No, I never doubted our decision a single second. I can never emphasize enough how lucky a man I am to have landed a catch like my husband. He is perfect, and everything I could ever wish for. He keeps me grounded, and no matter how much the stress might eat away at me, he will always manage to make me forget about everything else when I'm with him.”  


X  


Yifan is convinced it's the imprint of Yixing's good-luck kiss still burning on his lips that is driving him on the court. The _ten_ on his chest serves as a constant reminder of his husband's eyes on him, and Yifan takes comfort in that, draws strength from it. It helps him keep a cool head when he has to make split-second decisions and finds himself torn between which play to call. Some of his teammates are distracted whenever they have their significant others watch a game but, for Yifan, it does nothing but sharpen his focus.

By the time the horn sounds to signal the end of the game, he is gasping for breath, with his chest heaving with exertion. His pulse is hammering with equal parts adrenaline and jubilation as the scoreboard displays 107 - 100. It was a close game, but, at the very end, they managed to pull ahead that little bit that secured them the win. Even before he can join his teammates, Yifan’s gaze automatically strays to the sidelines.

Amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, there is one that makes his smile widen into a grin, gums on full display. The seating area he's looking at erupts into even louder cheers at having caught his attention, and Yixing joins in, yelling Yifan's name so loud that the basketball player can actually make out his voice among the noise. Warmth spreads inside Yifan's chest but he doesn't allow his eyes to linger on his husband's features.

Yifan is a private person. He has no problem sharing to the media that he is married, or how he likes to spend his time when he’s away from court, but he has always drawn a strict line between the media presence and his private life. Early on, he and Yixing had decided that, for as long as possible, they would keep Yixing's identity secret, since neither of them is intent on living their relationship in the public eye. It’s why Yixing is sat in the fourth row rather than the first, and why Yifan does not send a flying kiss in his direction when that is what he really wants to be doing.

All of Yifan’s teammates, however, know Yixing. So when the younger turns up backstage ten minutes later, there's no reason for Yifan to hold back from pulling his husband close to get his congratulations-for-winning-you-were-great-out-there kiss. Yixing chuckles against his lips in response to Yifan‘s eagerness, but then quickly brings his hands up to grab Yifan‘s jersey as he properly reciprocates. Yifan is tempted to deepen the kiss, but the hooting resounding from behind him reminds him that all his teammates are still present. He whispers against Yixing‘s lips that he‘ll meet him in the lobby as soon as he can, and the younger steals one last peck before letting Yifan retreat back into the locker room to get showered and changed.

„So, are both of you going to join us for a little celebration? Or, are you going to ditch us?“ Jinfu tries to sound offended at the idea, but he can’t fight down the joyous grin of victory.

Jiang Jinfu may have been a few centimeters smaller than Yifan, but his muscular build always manages to make up for that. Where Yifan is all agility and lean muscles, Jinfu is strength and bulky upper body. It makes them a perfect combination for weaving past the opposing team's defenses, and Yifan considers himself lucky to have found a friend in his teammate.

„I made a deal with Yixing that, if we lost, we‘d join all of you in licking our wounds, but if we won, I promised to take him out to dinner,“ Yifan admits, pulling the sweat-drenched jersey over his head and sighing in relief when the fabric no longer clings to his chest.

„Is that why you played so well today? Because you didn‘t want to have to spend the night with us?“ Jinfu gasps, his mocking affront almost believable but Yifan knows him well enough to know better.

„Do you even need to ask? I‘ve been stuck with you guys for weeks now, of course I‘d rather spend the evening with my husband.“

„Traitor,“ the younger huffs, yelping when Yifan‘s wet jersey slaps into his side.

When Yifan had only just joined the team, he would have taken such accusations seriously, even when uttered in jest. He isn‘t necessarily the most social person, taking his time to warm up to people and worrying about being the odd one out, especially when he is new in a group. But, camaraderie comes quick for him when he has the chance to bond through basketball, his biggest passion. So, now he feels at ease within the team.

They just finished their seventeenth game of the season, which means they’re not even halfway through. But, they have already spent almost seven weeks traveling for away games, or spending most of their waking hours practicing and exercising, so Yifan doesn’t  feel guilty for skipping the night of celebrating, all in favour of having a quiet dinner with Yixing. After all he hasn’t had the chance to properly spend time with his husband in over two weeks.

When Yifan eventually emerges from the locker room, dressed in a white button up and dark jeans, his hair still wet from the shower, Yixing is already waiting for him. It‘s their first date night in forever, so Yifan would have loved to dress up even more, but he doesn‘t want to delay things any further. And, with the way Yixing is eyeing him, the younger‘s bottom lip drawn between his teeth, Yifan realizes that there’s no need to dress up even further. Yixing’s appreciative gazes always leave no room for doubt.

Yixing, in turn, is dressed in nothing fancy, but Yifan’s heartbeat still picks up as he marvels at his husband’s form. The younger is wearing simple black pants and Yifan’s team jersey that has a „WU 10“ printed on it. However, no one knows that it‘s not mere merchandise but the real deal instead—being one of Yifan‘s jerseys from the previous season. Since Yixing even wears it at home, it‘s a very familiar sight for Yifan, just one he will never tire of.

„I hope I didn‘t take too long.“

Yifan leans down for a quick greeting-peck, but Yixing grabs his collar to demand a proper kiss when Yifan tries to pull away.

Yixing refrains from deepening the kiss, however, and releases Yifan shortly after. Not all of Yifan‘s teammates have left for their post-game celebration yet, and some of them, especially those Yifan is closer with, whistle from the distance in a teasing manner when they pass by the couple.

„Where do you want to go?“ Yifan asks, ignoring the catcalls as he cups Yixing‘s cheek with one of his hands while the other one holds Yixing‘s. „I hope you‘re hungry.“

Yixing‘s cheeks are flushed and warm to the touch, which Yifan attributes to post-game adrenaline. Yifan knows his own complexion must be a rather healthy colour, too. He finds it endearing that Yixing shares his excitement so earnestly. Yixing smiles at him and nuzzles into Yifan‘s hand, eyes closed as he inhales, and Yifan‘s heart lurches at how adorable his husband is.

„What do you feel like having?“ Yixing counters.

 _You_ , is Yifan‘s reflexive reply but he swallows it down. He promised Yixing a nice dinner to make up for all the dates he had to miss because of his job, so he won‘t allow his mind to disappear in the gutter just because his husband looks _delectable_.

„I‘m really open to anything, we can go for whatever you want.“

„Whatever I want?“ Yixing questions, eyes opening widely as he blinks up at Yifan, and the older is immediately weak.

„Whatever you want, yes,“ Yifan affirms, and Yixing looks up and down the hallway before taking a step closer to his husband.

By now, they are completely alone, everyone else having already left for partying or the warm embrace of their home. There are muted noises coming from upstairs, but the basement area, where the locker rooms are located, is completely deserted.

„Then, what if...“ Yixing trails off, fiddling with a button of Yifan‘s shirt and it takes an encouraging hum of the older for Yixing to continue. „What if I told you I no longer want to go for dinner?“

„Are you tired? We can just head back to the hotel. Order room service, watch a movie…?“ Yifan suggests, assuming that the late hour and the full week of work must have left their mark on Yixing.

Yixing cocks his head to the side, as if to consider Yifan’s proposal, but there‘s a glimmer in his eyes that suggests something very different from tiredness. „Do they lock the locker rooms?“

Caught off-guard, Yifan answers before he can even make sense of the sudden change of topic, „No they usually don‘t. Not that I know of, at least.“

„Then...“ Yixing‘s fingers dance up along the placket of Yifan‘s shirt to toy with the collar instead.

There‘s a seductive air to Yixing‘s touches, and Yifan‘s pulse quickens when he sees Yixing‘s lips stretch into a mischievous smile.

„What do you say to reliving some old memories? For nostalgia‘s sake.“

Yifan‘s mind is still reeling as he adjusts his mental evening plans from taking Yixing out to a nice restaurant to fucking Yixing in a locker room, but he can already feel his blood starting to rush south.

Misinterpreting the older‘s silence as reluctance Yixing tries to convince him with another tip-toed-kiss pressed to Yifan‘s mouth followed by a juvenile grin. „You know, let‘s feel young again.“

Still dumbfounded, Yifan struggles to regain his composure before wordlessly grabbing Yixing's hand. He casts a cautious gaze up and down the hallway as well, second checking that no one is there to see them, before crossing the distance to the locker room, with Yixing in tow.

He carefully shuts the door behind them, making sure that it closes without any sound. Yixing's hands have already started pulling at the shirt he had tucked into his pants in an attempt to make the simple ensemble look a little fancier. His husband clearly has no respect for his efforts when desperate.

Any remaining traces of rationality fly right out of the window as Yifan surges forward to claim Yixing's lips. The younger hums in delight and with his hands balled into Yifan's shirt, he tugs the older away from the door. For Yixing, the only thing that counts is getting his hands on Yifan's skin, and Yifan shudders slightly when Yixing eventually manages to slip beneath his shirt. With deft fingers, Yixing traces over the well-known territory of Yifan's waist, all whilst his tongue is probing at Yifan's lips for entrance.

Yifan easily gives in to the younger's insistence. He opens his mouth slightly and lets Yixing dictate the pace as his own hands grab the other's hips to pull their bodies together. Yixing gasps slightly when their crotches meet before leaning up to deepen their kiss even further. It's sloppy, Yixing's hands roaming freely underneath Yifan's shirt. Suddenly, the younger's grip around his hips tightens, and Yixing starts moving backwards, tugging Yifan along with him.

Seeing his chance to turn the tables, Yifan pushes forward until he has Yixing backed against the row of lockers. He slots one of his legs between Yixing's, stepping even closer until their bodies are pressed flush against each other. Yixing's little moan of approval gets swallowed by Yifan's lips, but it doesn't stop the younger from immediately starting to grind against Yifan. Yifan can clearly feel Yixing's arousal pressed to his thigh, the younger already almost fully hard, even though they've only been kissing.

"Is watching me play that _exciting_?" Yifan whispers with a smirk as he moves to kiss along Yixing's neck, accentuating the last word with a roll of his hips against Yixing's.

"You're so cocky," Yixing replies breathlessly and his hands fly to the collar of Yifan's shirt to start undoing the buttons. "Less talking, more undressing."

Yifan is tempted to probe further, but Yixing's fingers are already smoothing over his pectorals. His breath hitches when Yixing purposely brushes over his nipples before continuing in his quest to get rid of Yifan's clothes. Deciding that the teasing can wait until later, Yifan’s own hands dive beneath Yixing's jersey.

He loves fucking Yixing while the younger is wearing a jersey of his, but he decides that easy access to Yixing's collarbones, shoulders, nipples, and chest wins this time. So he releases his husband, just long enough to pull Yixing's shirt over his head and to shrug out of his own. He then leans back in and kisses along the pale column of Yixing's neck that’s now revealed, moving lower until he can nibble at Yixing's collarbones.

Yixing tilts his head back and pushes his torso closer to Yifan, giving his husband more space to roam as one of Yixing's hands buries itself in Yifan's hair, still damp from his shower. He tugs at the black strands when Yifan tongues at his right nipple, a strangled groan escaping the younger as he grinds his own erection against Yifan's quickly hardening dick. Yifan's grip on Yixing's hips is tight, but not to restrict the younger's movements. Yifan only wants Yixing to feel the pressure, to feel Yifan’s presence while letting the other move as he pleases. He releases one hand to roll his husband's left nipple between his fingers, making sure the bud isn't neglected while his teeth gently bite the right one.

Yixing moans silently but, before Yifan can drop to his knees or squeeze the younger's ass like he had planned, Yixing grabs his shoulders and gently pushes him away. Confused, Yifan follows the unvoiced command and straightens up so he can look at Yixing. He can make out the flush colouring Yixing's cheeks, even in the sparse lighting of the emergency exit sign, as well as the other's chest glistening with saliva and his pants bulging. Even though he can't see it in the darkness, he knows that Yixing's pupils are blown, his already plump lips swollen, too, and Yifan is so tempted to just dive back in to kiss his husband senseless. As if he knows what Yifan is thinking, Yixing bites his bottom lip. The action pulls all of Yifan's attention to it and makes him miss Yixing’s next move.

He let's out a small surprised yelp when he suddenly feels fingers on his belt and Yixing's demeanour shifts from seductive to amused in a heartbeat.

"Why so jumpy, Fan?" the younger laughs, his skilled fingers quickly doing away with the fastening of Yifan's jeans.

Yifan sighs in relief once Yixing has pulled the zipper down; he hadn’t even realized how painfully constricting his pants had been for his almost fully aroused cock. Yixing doesn't pull down the older's pants, however. Instead, he pushes against Yifan until the other moves backwards. Unsure of what Yixing is planning, Yifan let's himself be led, until his shins hit the benches and he finally understands. With a swift movement he steps out of his shoes so he can take off his pants, along with Yixing's thumbs immediately hooking into the older's boxers as he steps forward. Yixing pulls at the waistband but doesn't move it down, he just teases Yifan by brushing over the older's heated skin. It draws an impatient whine from his husband and, going by his smirk, that's exactly what Yixing was aiming for.

Rather than relieving Yifan of his last piece of clothing, Yixing leans forward to press a kiss to Yifan's sternum and then steps back to undo his own pants. Yifan swallows when he gets an unobstructed view of the bulge in Yixing's boxers, goosebumps rising on his arms in anticipation. He's never been so grateful for Yixing's love of slip ons, giving the younger the ability to quickly get rid of his pants.

Within a heartbeat, Yifan is crowding Yixing's personal space again, his lips hungrily pressed to Yixing's as he takes a hold of Yixing's waist. Yixing, however, proves to be more forward, with his hands immediately slipping into Yifan's boxers to grab his ass, then using the leverage to pull their crotches together. Now that there's only two thin layers of fabric separating them, the brush of their erections against each other sends sparks up Yifan's spine. It's been almost two weeks since he and Yixing last had the chance to have sex, and Yifan prays that the sensation of Yixing's cock grinding against his won't be too much already.

Yifan grunts deep in his throat as his hands wanders lower, to reach for what he's been wanting to grab. Yixing encourages him with a low moan directly next to his ear before nibbling at his earlobe. The younger rolls his hips against Yifan's again, and Yifan's pulse quickens. Without further ado, he slips his hands into Yixing's boxers. Yixing doesn't really have any considerable ass, so Yifan's hands easily cover the entirety of it and Yifan loves it. He squeezes once and relishes in the needy whine Yixing releases, the younger using the hold he has on Yifan’s ass to pull him closer. With a sense of satisfaction, Yifan squeezes again while nipping at the other's chin, and Yixing's breathy voice calling his name softly sends sparks through his veins. The younger hasn't stopped moving his hips, and Yifan knows he needs to hurry things along or he won't last much longer.

"Yixing," he whispers, and when Yixing looks at him, Yifan dives down to lock their lips in a messy kiss while his fingers trace the cleft of Yixing's ass.

The sounds of Yixing's pleasure are swallowed by Yifan's mouth, but the older startles when suddenly he feels something foreign. He expected to reach Yixing's entrance, to let his fingers tease and massage the rim before properly starting the preparation. But there's a bump, and instead of soft skin his fingertips are gliding over a smooth surface that's somewhat cool in contrast to the heat Yixing's body is emitting. He grunts lowly in confusion and breaks from the kiss to look at Yixing, his fingers still feeling along the foreign glassy material.

The younger's eyes are lidded and his mouth opened in a voiceless moan when he leans back against Yifan's hand. It applies more pressure to the mysterious object, and Yixing releasing a low groan in response to the sensation. And then, suddenly, it clicks.

"Yixing," Yifan gasps, equal parts scandalized and aroused when he belatedly realizes just what must be blocking his husband’s entrance.

Yixing opens his eyes slowly, seductively, his lips pulling into a smirk as if he'd just been waiting for Yifan to make the discovery.

He tiptoes slightly so that his lips brush against Yifan's when he asks, "Yes?"

"You didn't-" Yifan tries to swallow around the sudden dryness of his throat as a thought crosses his mind, before forcing himself to complete the sentence. "Is this...?"

"I thought since we haven't seen each other in so long, it'd be nice to be wearing your gift for your game," Yixing whispers breathily.

A picture flashes before Yifan's inner eye, a memory of the buttplug he gave Yixing the last time they'd seen each other. It is made of glass, a faint amethyst colour, and Yifan had been drawn to its simplicity. Yixing had teased him about how unromantic Yifan's gifts always were, but in this very moment, he looks rather fond of the buttplug.

Yifan is so caught up in visualizing the toy that it takes a second for the other's words to properly register.

"You mean you have been watching the whole game wearing a buttplug?" he blurts out in disbelief.

Suddenly, Yifan imagines Yixing squirming in his seat, the buttplug lodged in his ass as he watches Yifan on the court. It is so utterly inappropriate but, at the same time, Yifan feels arousal burn through his veins.

"I just wanted to be a supportive husband. I've read about the positive effects of sex on athletes and I wanted to be ready to help you," Yixing claims, eyes wide open in a sudden attempt to look innocent.

"Xing, you linked me that article," Yifan reminds his husband, deciding to play along, "And it talks about sex _before_ a game because it helps with relaxing and good blood circulation. Both of which I don't have a problem with _after_ the game is over."

Yixing hums lowly in throat as if he was only just reminded of that part, but Yifan doesn't call him out on the rather obvious act.

"Well if that's the case, I guess there's only one logical consequence,” Yixing concludes. “We will have to fuck more later, when the next game is closer."

Yifan just chuckles softly, before voicing his agreement.

"Will I still get my reward for trying to be a supportive husband?" Yixing asks, a seductive glint in his eyes as he rolls his hips against Yifan's.

The older suppresses a gasp in favour of letting a small smirk grace his lips. "Of course."

Without any further warning, Yifan pushes Yixing's boxers down and gets rid of his own as well. He is so tempted to ask Yixing to turn around and bend over so he can get a proper look at the buttplug buried in Yixing’s ass but his cock is throbbing painfully, and there'll always be a next chance to fully admire his husband's behind. Yixing yelps slightly when Yifan grabs his butt, the older sitting down and using his hold to pull Yixing down.

"What reward do you want?" Yifan asks once he's safely positioned Yixing on his lap.

Yixing tilts his head to side slightly in mock contemplation, his hands tracing up and down the planes of Yifan's chest as he scoots a little closer.

"Let me think," he singsongs. Yifan is impatient, but he also wants to play along with Yixing's little game. So he simply waits. It comes as no surprise when Yixing's fingers move lower and lower on his body. The younger's voice is sultry as he replies, "Your cock."

Yifan's cock twitches as if in response to the call, and the older shivers under Yixing's fleeting touches. Yixing has always had a penchant for teasing but the way his hand wraps around Yifan's length still drives the air out of Yifan’s lungs. He releases a low whine, his grip on Yixing tightening while the younger presses wet kisses along his shoulder. A new sense of urgency instils itself in Yifan's veins, with the lazy flicking of Yixing's wrist only fuelling that rather than providing any relief.

Yifan retaliates by tugging on the buttplug still buried inside Yixing. Not enough to remove it but just so that the thicker middle part of it catches on Yixing's rim. He feels Yixing's hot breath hitch against his skin, and Yifan repeats the action once before deciding that they've fooled around long enough.

He whispers a warning to Yixing before pulling out the toy, his husband gasping softly and whining about feeling empty as soon as his entrance is clenching around nothing but air. The buttplug's diameter is on the larger side and even though Yixing is asking for it, Yifan refuses to fuck him with no preparation. It's been too long, and no matter how wide the buttplug might have been, it doesn't compare to Yifan's cock. There's no way Yifan will risk hurting Yixing.

Yet, he can’t deny that he is growing impatient himself, and it translates into a certain carelessness when he sets the buttplug to the side to free his hands. A loud, clear clinking resonates through the room when Yifan miscalculates the distance between the toy and the floor, the impact harder than intended. They have kept as silent as possible so the sound startles Yifan. As if he's been broken out of a trance, Yifan tenses immediately and stills all his movements to listen for nearing footsteps or voices.

"Relax." Noticing the sudden change in Yifan's attitude, Yixing leans forward to whisper into the other’s ear while soothingly caressing Yifan's back. "You're only fucking your husband, Yifan. It's not like you're in here fucking a prostitute or something." Yixing seems to consider the thought for a moment, his expression changing to a sultry smirk, "Unless that's how you want us to play..."

Back in university they used to stay behind or slip into locker rooms all the time. After shared basketball practice, Yifan would con Yixing into blowjobs in the shower while Yixing seduced Yifan to fuck him under the bleachers. Back then, the worst consequences awaiting them upon discovery were a stern scolding by a flustered professor and possibly some extra exercises. Now it’s Yifan's career on the line, and even though Yifan knows he shouldn't be enjoying it, he can't help but shiver from the thrill of that. Discovery would come at so much of an higher cost, but his husband is on his lap, begging to be fucked. His choice has been made already, all the blood in his nether regions isn’t leaving much for his brain and rational thinking either way.

"Maybe next time," Yifan denies Yixing's offer to add some role playing. "Right now, I want to fuck my husband."

"Then get on with it." Yixing hot breath ghosts right over Yifan's lips as the younger leans down, mouth millimeters away from touching Yifan’s, "Fuck me."

Yifan is the one who closes the distance between them, kissing Yixing hard.

Preparation is quick, Yixing's saliva having been deemed a sufficient enough lubricant in their desperate state. The younger is whimpering when Yifan eventually withdraws his fingers after scissoring Yixing open. And, the older doesn't even get a chance to ask him for patience, Yixing has already lifted himself up and grabbed a hold of Yifan's cock, guiding it towards his entrance. He halts when the head of Yifan's cock brushes against his puckered rim, and he looks at Yifan with hooded eyes to study his reaction. Then, with slightly parted lips and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he starts sinking down on Yifan's erection.

Yifan allows Yixing to decide the pace, having learned that there's no use in trying to stop or slow Yixing. So he simply holds the younger to support him as his thumbs draw soothing patterns into the soft skin of Yixing's hip. The smile on Yixing's lips looks strenuous, but he keeps going until he's properly seated on Yifan's lap again, the older's cock fully inside him.

"Breathe," Yifan whispers as an unnecessary reminder, brushing Yixing's sweat matted hair from his forehead to plant a soft kiss there.

Yixing inhales, the exhale coming out as a shaky laugh. "Forgot how big you are."

In an attempt to distract Yixing, Yifan strokes up and down his back, following the curve of his spine up to his shoulder blades and back down to his ass. It doesn't take Yixing long to adjust. Once he’s gotten used to being so stretched, Yixing lifts himself up carefully, sinking back down with a low whine. Deeming the motion more pleasurable than it is painful, he repeats it, working up a rhythm that has Yifan's head spinning. He has missed the way Yixing's walls wrap around his length so deliciously, contracting in all the right ways at all the right times. A grunt works its way out of his throat when Yixing gyrates his hips. Yixing’s breath hitches when the move makes Yifan's cock press against his prostate all the same.

Yixing's strength never fails to amaze Yifan, and he tries to feel every inch of Yixing as the younger bounces on his lap. Yixing’s thighs quiver under Yifan's touch, and he groans lowly when Yifan's hand covers almost his whole lower back to pull them closer together. The new proximity makes Yixing's neglected cock rub against Yifan's abs and Yixing's fingers dig into Yifan's shoulder as he gasps.

Yifan is close, so he can’t stop himself from thrusting up to meet Yixing's movements. The younger releases a desperate keen as Yifan’s cock reaches deeper, and Yifan keeps the angle so that he’ll keep brushing along Yixing's prostate. The formerly even rhythm Yixing had kept up starts derailing as he gets lost in a headless chase for pleasure, for release, _finally._

"Touch me," Yixing whines when his thighs are already trembling with exhaustion on each side of Yifan. There's so much need nestled into his voice that Yifan shivers from it.

It leads Yifan to wrap his fingers around Yixing's erection, relishing in the desperate noise it draws from Yixing's throat. He squeezes once in warning, a reminder that they need to be silent. Yixing whines again, but it’s quieter this time, while Yifan tugs on Yixing's cock in sync with his thrusts. The younger slumps forward to muffle his moans into Yifan's shoulder, which only adds more stimulation for Yifan. In the hope of pushing Yixing over the edge first, he speeds up the movement of his wrist. The way Yixing's walls tighten around him is a sign of the younger's impending climax, but it also adds more pressure to Yifan's cock.

In the end it's Yifan who cums first, stuttering hips and groaning Yixing's name. Yet even through the shocks of orgasm, he forces his hand to keep up its movements along Yixing's shaft. His thrusts do not still either and Yixing starts chanting his name like a prayer, twitching in Yifan's hold. Yixing’s fingers press into Yifan’s upper arms, firmly enough that Yifan is half-expecting it to bruise, a strangled moan breaking from Yixing’s throat as his hot cum hits their skin. Yifan keeps moving until Yixing is milked dry and slumps against his husband.

Yifan's pulse is thundering in his ears, his breath coming out in huffs but he still tilts his head to the side to gently kiss Yixing's chin, then his cheek, until Yixing turns towards him and he can press their lips together.

Yixing still makes him feel like he did back in university, young and reckless, hot-blooded and crazily in love. And while Yifan softly mouths along the pale column of Yixing's throat and listens to his husband catch his breath, he doesn't think that will ever change. The younger is intoxicating and exhilarating, and Yifan wouldn't have it any other way. More than that, Yixing is familiarity and comfort. Yixing is home and Yifan is overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions. He attributes it to the post-game excitement, the adrenaline from winning still burning through his veins, mixing with the post-orgasmic endorphin rush and adding to the high that Yixing sat astride on his lap, naked, always brings.

He wants to tell Yixing how crazy he is, that he always makes Yifan do reckless things but when he actually opens his mouth what comes out is a low laugh. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Yixing chuckles before giving him a short peck.

They don't get to bask in their post orgasmic high for long, however, reminded of their surroundings as their minds clear up. The showers adjacent to the locker room are very tempting but they make too much noise, so they have to make do with Yifan's wet towel. Once they've cleaned up the best they can, collected all their clothing from the floor and redressed, Yixing crouches down beside the bench. Yifan hums questioningly as he futilely tries to brush the wrinkles from his button up shirt.

“Wouldn’t want to forget this little one,” Yixing declares with a playful grin when he straightens his back again, holding the amethyst buttplug in hand like a trophy. “It could raise quite a few questions. Plus, it would be a shame to lose something so pretty yet functional. Not with how much more fun we can have with it.”

At the reminder of the buttplug, Yifan flusters, a blush quickly rising to his face. He’s just grateful for the darkness of the room. Yixing let's the buttplug disappear in his pants pocket and stands to press a quick kiss against Yifan’s heated cheek, whispering, “Cute.”

Then he takes Yifan's hand and leads him towards the door, effectively cutting off Yifan’s sputtering reply. He presses his ear against it first, then he opens it a crack, just enough to spy down the hallway. When he deems the coast clear, he drags Yifan after him, quickly stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind them.

They're both laughing by the time they've made it to Yifan's car, like teenagers having successfully evaded detention, and when they're halfway to their hotel the breathless chuckles still hang in the air between them, their traces visible in the smiles etched on their faces.

Yifan turns to look at Yixing when a red traffic light stops them and picks up the younger's hand to press a kiss to the back of it. "I'm so happy you're here."

A blush dusts Yixing's cheeks, but it might just be the post-orgasmic glow. "Did you miss it that much to fuck me in locker rooms?" The younger asks with a teasing lilt to his words.

"Of course I have." Yifan has been with his husband for long enough to know how to play along. Yixing inhales sharply but before he even gets the chance to voice mock indignation over how Yifan only wants his body, the older adds, "I'm serious, Xing. I missed you. Having you around always gives me strength."

The traffic light chooses that very moment to jump back to green, so he only catches the softening of Yixing's expression from the corner of his eye but he feels it in the way Yixing squeezes his hand. Yixing is not very good at putting his feelings into words, even now that they've been together for years, but Yifan never minded.

He doesn't need words to understand Yixing.


	2. +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me almost a whole month to update but there you finally have it, the second part!  
>  **This part does contain mpreg! So if you're uncomfortable with mpreg, I suggest you do not read on**. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy~

It doesn’t always work out so perfectly. More often than not, they are forced to be apart for days, sometimes even weeks if their work schedules refuse to match up at all. Yixing has his own obligations, his own work commitments, and no matter how much they both wish for it, the younger can‘t simply always drop everything and follow Yifan to wherever his job may carry him.

Neither of them likes it, leading a mostly long distance relationship throughout the season, but they have years of experience with it. Over time, they‘ve figured how to make do with phone calls and text messages during the time they are apart.

"You really should sleep, Fanfan.“ Yixing‘s voice sounds tinny through the speaker of Yifan‘s phone, and all of a sudden Yifan wishes technology had evolved enough already to give him a sound quality clear enough to create the illusion that his husband was lying right next to him. "You have a big game tomorrow.“

The clock doesn‘t even read eleven yet, but Yixing’s right. He needs all the sleep he can get, since they‘ll be playing their first semi-final the next day. The season had been going their way so far, winning far more games than they lost but Yifan knows better than to let himself be lulled into a premature sense of security. He has to stay alert and give his all in the games to follow, or their past successes won‘t count for anything anymore.

"I will sleep,“ he tells Yixing, the sheets rustling beneath his back as he shifts slightly on the mattress. "Soon. Give me thirty more minutes. I don‘t want to stop talking to you yet.“

Yixing hums in understanding, just as reluctant to part, even though it‘s a weekday and the younger will have to get up early himself. Then again, Yixing has always needed less sleep between the two. He often stays up late into the night to complete whatever he is working on before slipping under their sheets and, when he’s home, into Yifan‘s welcoming embrace.

Suddenly Yifan is keenly aware of the clean yet nondescript smell of the hotel‘s detergent, the bed he‘s resting on grows increasingly impersonal and unwelcoming, despite its comfortableness. He should have brought Yixing‘s aftershave with him, or his shampoo, or a shirt of his, or just anything that smells like his husband. Yet at the same time, he knows it would always be a very weak substitute. The scent he‘s missing is the one that comes distinctly from Yixing, not one of the products he uses.

"Why are you always so cheesy?"

Yifan, still distracted by the memory of Yixing’s smell, wonders for a second whether he actually voiced his thoughts out loud. "What?"

"I saw you on TV, earlier tonight," Yixing explains, "but my phone was dead so I couldn't take a picture."

And then it clicks, what the younger is talking about. A low chuckle rumbles in Yifan's ribcage as he rolls onto his back to face the ceiling instead. Of course Yixing would have watched the show. He always catches Yifan's interviews when they're airing. During the season, when Yifan is away from home more than he's there, Yixing sends him photos of whenever he catches sight of Yifan. Whether that be an ad in the subway, Yifan's face on the label of a drink his team endorses or a post-game interview replayed on the TV of some sports bar.

 _It makes me feel closer to you,_ Yixing had explained once.

"I wasn't being cheesy," Yifan defends. "Just stating facts."

Yifan can hear the attempt at a deadpan expression in Yixing's voice, but he knows exactly that there's a fond smile on the Yixing's lips. "You are insufferable."

"I only said that there’s no use wishing me good luck. To win the game, I can only rely on my training and skills, since I used up all my luck in getting my husband to marry me."

"How can you call that not being cheesy?!" Yixing exclaims in exasperation. "You're the lamest, I hope you know that."

"I don't care," Yifan replies with a grin so wide that it shows his gums. "As long as you'll keep loving me."

"Are you fishing for declarations of affection, Fanfan? If you want to hear me say that I love you, you only have to ask."

Yixing laughs and Yifan thinks how he doesn't need to hear the words; he can hear the love in Yixing's laugh, as it’s the kind that's reserved just for him and no one else. And Yifan will never tire of the sound.

"I'm never opposed to hearing you vow your undying love for me but once again, I was only stating the truth."

Yixing's amused huff filters through the speaker of his phone, but rather than coming up with another retort, the younger changes the topic instead. "Oh right, before I forget. Seems like William will be able to join after all, his business trip got moved up by a week."

"That's great, I think I haven't seen him since he got his new job? Do the guys already know I'll be there?" Yifan asks, blinking slowly as his eyelids feel weighed down with tiredness.

"Yeah, they know. We picked the weekend after the last semifinal because you’re free then, remember?" There is amusement in Yixing's voice, since usually it's Yifan reminding him of something, not the other way round.

"And don't think I can't hear the slurring of your words. You're tired," Yixing adds when Yifan doesn’t even reply, his words as soft as a gentle caress.

Yifan sighs as he relaxes against the mattress.

"I don't want to sleep," he whines weakly, actually meaning: _I don't want to stop talking with you._

"Don't be a baby, Fanfan," Yixing whispers affectionately.

"I miss you," Yifan admits after a short break of silence.

"I miss you, too," Yixing readily replies, as if he'd been holding himself back from letting the words escape. "But it's just a few more days and then we'll be able to sleep in the same bed again."

And even though Yifan longs for nothing more than his husband's arms around him, he forces himself to stay silent. Being apart is just as tough on Yixing, if not even tougher. Yifan knows, from experience, that staying by himself in their shared flat feels a lot lonelier than staying in some nondescript hotel room.

"I love you," he says instead, and a warm feeling spreads inside his chest when Yixing immediately whispers it back.

Yifan eventually falls asleep to the sound of Yixing's even breathing, neither of them wanting to hang up. It's a another ritual of theirs, a thin connection to draw comfort from. They may be hundreds of miles apart, but, like this, Yixing's breathing is the last thing he hears when falling asleep and it's the first thing he hears when he wakes. Just that small thing makes everything a bit better.

They rarely ever talk on the phone right before a game since Yifan is always immersed in the team then, both mentally and physically. As soon as he arrives at the stadium, there‘s nothing but basketball on his mind.

So Yixing sends him his good-luck-wishes in the early morning instead, when Yifan is still in his hotel room, getting ready.

 _" Jiayou, Baobei. I‘ll be rooting for you from here,“_ the WeChat message reads, and Yifan‘s heart leaps when he looks at the accompanying picture. Yixing must have only just woken up, since he‘s still lying in the bed, the sheets crumpled around him. He‘s thrown off the blanket to reveal the jersey he‘s wearing, the red “10” standing out clearly against the white fabric. His curly hair is a mess, and his cheeks are still flushed with the remnants of sleep.

Yifan responds with hearts, and how he wishes he could set that picture as his lockscreen, so Yixing tells him to do his best in the game and to get home quickly, so he can see the real thing rather than having to stare at the pictures of Yixing that he saves to his phone.

X

The lighting in the bar is dim, as always, and music plays lowly in the background. The television fixed to the wall opposite the counter is switched to the sports channel, but Yifan doesn't pay much attention to it as he passes below to head for the table in the far corner. It’s only a little secluded, but it still gives their gathering more than enough privacy. The bar itself is hidden in a back alley, and unless you know where it is, you wouldn’t ever find it. Everyone there keeps to themselves, so Yifan doesn’t need to fear prying eyes or overly curious ears.

"Sorry I made you wait," he announces to the table as he slides into his usual seat next to Yixing, throwing an arm around his husband's shoulders as he leans in for a quick greeting kiss.

There’s five of them, he and Yixing included, and they’ve been frequenting this bar since long before everyone got jobs and they all started heading in different directions. Over time, it’s grown into a ritual to meet in the bar for a few drinks.

They all met at different stages during high school, and while William is Yifan’s senior by five years, Xuedong, Lu Han, him and Yixing are all fairly close in age. Somehow they’ve managed to keep in contact, long after they all graduated. Lu Han loves to proudly remind them that they all owe it to him for that, since he declared that they should make it a rule to meet up at least once a month. Yifan's schedule doesn’t always allow him to join, however, and while his friends are understanding, it still doesn't stop them from teasing him.

"Look who's actually made it! It’s Xing's hotshot basketball boyfriend!" William raises his glass in a mock salute, the amber liquid in it swapping slightly against the rim without spilling.

"We've been married for three years." Yixing frowns at their friend. "When will you stop calling him my boyfriend?"

“Really? That’s the part that bothers you?” Xuedong asks quietly with a disbelieving laugh but his question gets ignored.

"Excuse me, hotshot basketball _husband_ ," William corrects himself, instead, with a teasing grin and Yixing simply replies by rolling his eyes while Yifan signals for the waiter to get him a non-alcoholic beer.

"You're not drinking? You just won your semifinal and the finals are over a week away. Shouldn't you be allowed one night of celebration?" Luhan exclaims, the red tint of his cheeks giving away that the half empty White Russian set in front of him isn't his first drink.

"Well, someone has to stay sober to drive you home when you're hammered."

The blond nods his thanks towards the waitress when she puts down his drink in front of him.

A silent chuckle escapes Yixing when Luhan lets out an affronted huff, declaring that, uncaring of his state of inebriation, he doesn’t need Yifan’s help to find his way home. Yifan, however, isn't even really listening anymore, his attention having turned to his husband instead. Yixing had nestled into his side the moment Yifan sat down, with his left hand in the back pocket of Yifan's jeans while his right one loosely grasps the glass sat in front of him. The younger's touch is hot even through the layers of Yifan's clothes.

"How many of these did you have already?" Yifan whispers to his husband when he takes in the younger's flushed cheeks, vaguely nodding at the glass of beer. He presses a kiss to Yixing's forehead, right below his hairline, and feels Yixing’s skin warm against his lips.

"This is my first," Yixing replies, leaning into Yifan's touch.

The younger is a lightweight, that’s a well known fact between all of them sat around the table. But even taking into account how bad Yixing is at handling alcohol, his blush seems out of place. So Yifan splays his fingers against the other's cheek, his eyebrows creased slightly with worry. "You're rather hot, are you okay?"

Yixing looks at the other blankly for a second before breaking into laughter. "That's the husband I know, always the flatterer."

"You know what I mean," Yifan huffs but his expression automatically smoothes out a little when he's greeted with the sight of Yixing's dimpled smile.

"I'm fine, Yifan. It's nothing."

The younger faces down, and Yifan can't help himself. It seems like Yixing is trying to change the topic, and that doesn't sit right with him. He knows his husband doesn't like when anyone—Yifan included—worries about him.

"Right, Mr. hotshot basketball _husband_ , you just missed the broadcast of your interview!" Lu Han's voice calls for their attention before Yifan can say anything, and Yixing immediately turns to glare at him.

"My interview?" Yifan dumbly asks, confused as to which particular interview of his could elicit such gleeful excitement from Luhan.

"Yeah, your interview! When were you going to tell us about your family planning, bro?" William joins in, as if sensing the perfect chance for picking up his teasing.

Beside him, Yixing groans. "Here we go again. I really should be drinking faster."

That’s when Yifan suddenly gets why Yixing might have been blushing. He knows their friends, and if his interview really was aired before he arrived, Yixing must have been on the receiving end of questions about their family planning already.

Yifan has been dubbed “Mr. Family” by the tabloids quickly after his debut in professional basketball. He has made no secret of how happy he is with his husband, and that he hasn’t once regretted getting married to his high school sweetheart. Now, after the birth of a teammate’s son a few weeks prior, the focus has shifted onto him and his own family plans.

In the radio show he had guested in a few nights prior, the moderator told him that everyone had expected him to be the first father among the team’s younger players. He had just laughed the matter off before divulging, with a wink and half in jest, that he and Yixing were indeed considering starting a family but they were in no rush. His friends must have read more intention into the generic statement than was intended.

"Yes, when were you guys planning to tell us?" Lu Han agrees with William in a tone of playful accusation.

"Tell you what?" Yixing exclaims with an exasperation that is telling of how often he already had to repeat that same sentence already that night. Then he adds in a whine, "There's nothing to be told."

Yifan's arm that had been slung around Yixing's shoulders drops to rest at Yixing's waist instead, his hand slipping beneath Yixing's shirt to draw calming patterns against the other's heated skin. The younger sounds slightly distressed, and Yifan makes a mental note to make sure Yixing gets enough sleep that night. Lack of it is one of the common reasons for Yixing being so easily upset. Upon closer inspection, it's not difficult for Yifan to pick up on the small signs of tiredness in Yixing's body language.

"We are not actively trying for a baby, okay, guys? Hold your horses on that baby shower," Yifan speaks up, trying to divert the attention from his husband as Yixing relaxes a little under his touch.

"Not actively? Are you passively trying for a baby then?" Luhan questions.

While Yifan is still grappling for words to reply, Xuedong pipes up. "What is that even supposed to mean?"

"Well, are they using protection for example? Or are they just letting mother nature decide whether it happens or not?"

"Okay, we are _not_ discussing our sex life in the middle of a bar," Yifan interrupts their friends, hoping the dimness of the bar hides his blush. After a moment's consideration, he declares with an air of finality, "Actually, we're not discussing our sex life _anywhere._ "

"Spoilsport," Lu Han pouts but acquiesces. "As long as we get the good news first before the media catches wind of it."

"When there is good news, that is," Xuedong adds, and to Yifan's pleasant surprise, that settles the topic for the rest of the evening.

They spend a few more hours sitting together, updating each other on what’s been going on in their lives. At one point, Yixing rests his head against Yifan's shoulder, as if he's ready to doze off but no one bats an eyelash at it. When Yifan turns to press a kiss against his husband's hair, he halts.

"Have you been using my shampoo?" he asks silently, amusement tinting his voice. Yixing likes sweet vanilla scents while Yifan prefers cool, minty ones, so they both have their own bottles of shampoo standing in their shower rack. "Did you miss me that much?"

He expects to be elbowed for the teasing tone but Yixing just glares at him weakly before mumbling, “You wish. It’s just, I had to throw mine out, something about its smell really upset my stomach. I probably just grabbed a bad bottle. Since I haven’t had the chance to stop by the store to get a new one, I’ve been using yours. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t. In fact, you should use it more often." Yifan inhales deeply as if to prove his point, smiling when his senses are filled with Yixing's scent mixed with that of his shampoo. He leans down so Yixing will still understand him when he lets his voice drop to a whisper. "I like it when you smell like me."

Yixing shivers in his hold, less because of the innuendo and rather because of Yifan's breath ghosting against his ear. The older knows exactly how weak his husband is to these kind of things, and he smirks when Yixing's fingers suddenly grip him the tiniest bit tighter.

"God, get a room," Lu Han calls at them, evidently having noticed the shift of atmosphere surrounding the married couple.

Yifan only barely manages to bite back a snarky remark about how Lu Han was so eager to find out about their sex life just a few hours ago. Instead, Yifan simply declares that perhaps that's exactly what they'll do and Yixing laughs at the scandalized look on Lu Han's face when they actually do get up to leave. The tables are turned on them, however, when Xuedong yells after them that they have to remember to write in the group chat if they do end up actively— _or passively_ —making a baby. Both Yifan and Yixing suddenly hasten their steps to escape their group of tipsy friends.

As soon as they're out of the building, Yifan grabs Yixing's hand again as they stroll to where the older has parked his car. "Hey, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable by saying that."

"By saying what? That we'll get a room? It's okay, they're very well aware that we fuck, Fan," Yixing replies with a low laugh.

"No, that's not what I meant." Yifan shakes his head gently as he slows them down a little. "I was talking about what I said in that interview."

Yixing's mouth opens in a silent sound of understanding before he gives Yifan a soft smile, squeezing Yifan's hand gently. "Don't worry, Fan, it's fine. It's the truth after all, right? If it happens, it happens."

And even though they have talked about it before, Yifan's heart flutters. It's impulsive, but Yifan can't stop himself from tugging Yixing to a halt before bending down to kiss him. Yixing immediately grabs the older's shirt to pull him closer, and Yifan willingly follows the other's lead when Yixing pushes himself up onto his toes to gain control over the kiss.

Yixing tilts his head and when his tongue ghosts over Yifan’s lips, Yifan knows exactly what’s on his husband’s mind. His concern is bigger than his lust however, and he runs his fingers through Yixing's hair once in a calming motion as he gently pulls back. "Are you sure? You look exhausted."

"I wouldn't propose sex if I was too tired for it, Yifan," Yixing deadpans, his expression pulling into a smirk as he leans up to nip at Yifan's neck. "And just imagine how much better I'll sleep afterwards."

Yifan wants to protest, his earlier resolution of making sure Yixing sleeps soundly still ringing clear in his mind. But when the younger whines at him that he can sleep in the next day, and that he's gone without Yifan for too long during the season, the older's resistance quickly crumbles.

"How about we just get home," Yixing breathes against Yifan's lips and Yifan shivers in anticipation, “ _and see what happens_?”

X

The squeaking of rubber soles against polished wooden floor, interrupted by dull thuds; these are the noises that make Yifan’s heartbeat pick up as his breathings quickens and his muscles tense, all while his brain sharpens. He can’t remember a time when he wasn’t playing basketball whenever he could. It is as much a part of him as breathing, and even though he’s only in his twenties he’s already dreading the days of his retirement.

Yixing tends to scold him fondly for it in that caring way that still always gives Yifan the feeling of being fully understood, even when Yixing calls him silly. It's a skill unique to Yixing.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

"Yixing has his workmates over," Yifan explains, turning around to nod in greeting at the newcomer who is making his way towards him from the locker room.

It's past eight, the sun set hours before and most of his teammates have gone home already. But Yifan’s still there, playing. Not even a week has passed since they lost the season’s final and while the loss has left all of them dissatisfied, nobody wants to let it spoil the off-season. Yifan might be hard working, passionate and dedicated to staying in shape even when there is no immediate game looming around the next corner, yet, he also wouldn't usually be one to still be at the gym this late during off-season. Not when he'd much rather spend time with his husband.

But since they want to keep it secret that Yixing is married to the point guard of the Guangzhou Southern Tigers, Yifan has to stay away from their flat while Yixing's colleagues are over. Usually they don't invite anyone to their home who isn't a close friend of theirs but Yixing's team has to present their work to their boss the next day. Yixing had volunteered their home to go over everything one last time, and Yifan, knowing how hard Yixing has been working on that project, is the last one to object. So he rather seeks refuge in the gym, practicing his shots until his phone will buzz with Yixing's call for him to come home.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be too?" Yifan counters as he aims for the basket and jumps, hand tipping forward as he lets the ball draw a curve in the air before falling through the metal hoop fixed ten feet above the ground.

Jinfu’s soft chuckle resounds from his left as the smaller male picks up another ball, holding it under his arm. "Wife‘s still out of town. Since Bojing was born, she‘s been staying with her parents. She'll be back in a few days, so no, I don't really have a better place to be right now.“

Yifan understands the longing in Jinfu's words all too well, so he decides to lighten the mood a little.

"Does that mean I‘ll not get to meet the newest addition to the Jiang family anytime soon because the in-laws are monopolizing him? And I thought we were close.“ He juts his lower lip out in a mock pout, prompting a loud laugh from his teammate.

"Wipe that look off your face Wu Yifan. You‘re not cute and you know it,“ Jinfu accuses him, passing the ball to the taller male who catches it effortlessly.

"My better half claims otherwise.“

"Yixing‘s vote doesn‘t count here. He‘s proven to be unable to make good calls by choosing to be with you.“

Yifan gasps in fake shock. "His vote is the only one that counts.“

There‘s amusement written all over Jinfu‘s features as he crouches a little, poised for attack. "What do you say about a little one-on-one to waste some time? You can try defending Yixing‘s honour.“

Without another word, Yifan sets off the chase towards the basket.

X

"I'm home," Yifan announces as he pulls the door closed behind himself, in case the sound of his keys turning in the lock hasn’t give his arrival away already. The second floorboard on the right and the fifth on the left squeak to welcome him back as he doesn't watch his steps. It's barely gone ten, and even though the hallway is dark, the light falling from their living room gives away Yixing's location.

" _Baobei_ , do we already have plans for the next weekend?" he asks into the flat as he shrugs out of his coat and puts his shoes in their usual spot. "I was talking with Jinfu, and he invited us over for lunch, or tea, or dinner, whatever we're free for. I thought it'd be a nice opportunity to meet Bojing."

When there is no response, Yifan's brows crease slightly. Yixing doesn't usually put on headphones when he's waiting for Yifan to come home, so the only explanation Yifan can think of for Yixing not having heard him is that his husband has fallen asleep. The younger has been tired a lot lately, and Yifan can't deny that it's starting to worry him.

Yixing has troubles sleeping when he's stressed, which sadly, is more or less his usual state of being with how much effort he puts into his job. Yet, Yifan has never experienced Yixing as constantly exhausted as he has been in the last few weeks. Yixing has been trying to hide it from Yifan but he can tell. He has made it one of his main priorities for his downtime to make sure Yixing gets enough rest. No matter how pre-occupied Yixing's mind is with his work, Yifan's presence next to him still always makes him sleep easier.

" _Baobei?_ " Yifan gently calls as he approaches their living room, fully expecting to be greeted with the sight of his husband passed out on their couch.

Instead he finds Yixing very much awake, studying some papers in front of him. It might be unreasonable, but the other's behaviour is odd and Yifan can't fight the worry that is starting to creep into his veins. Yixing never ignores him when he hears Yifan’s I’m-home-greeting, and Yifan doesn’t remember any fights or reasons why Yixing could possibly be mad enough at him to give him the silent treatment. Yifan pauses in the doorframe for a second.

"Yixing?" there's a small shake in his voice.

Yixing's head jerks up, his eyes widening slightly when he notices his husband's presence and he lets the papers drop unceremoniously to the coffee table. A dozen different emotions rush over Yixing's face too quickly for Yifan to catch them. In the end, Yixing's features settle on apprehension when he looks at Yifan, the edges of his lips quivering.

When Yifan sees the sheen of moisture glistening in Yixing's eyes, he panics.

" _Baobei_ , what's wrong?" he takes a step forward to encase Yixing in his arms, hoping that with his embrace he can shield his husband from any and all of his troubles, but he halts when Yixing's mouth unexpectedly stretches into a smile. It's tentative and shaky but it's enough to make Yifan freeze in the spot with confusion.

Only then does Yixing fully rise from his sitting position, and Yifan finally catches sight of what his husband is wearing. From the distance, and with Yifan's attention focused on Yixing's expression, the jersey had looked just like Yixing's favourite, the one from Yifan's last season. Now he sees that there is one important detail that is off.

"Why are you wearing eleven?” He stutters unintelligently, his brain refusing to work properly as Yixing walks towards him. Yifan's gaze flits between the two white digits and Yixing's slowly spreading smile before adding. “Your number is ten."

By the time Yixing is standing in front of Yifan, his lips are stretched apart in a full on grin. He reaches for Yifan's hands, taking a hold of them and Yifan can't help but notice that Yixing’s palms are slightly clammy. He would have thought there was bad news but even though Yixing's eyes are brimming with tears, he's grinning so widely that it presses not only one, but both of his dimples into his cheeks.

All Yifan can do is weakly ask, "What is going on here?"

Yixing just looks at him, and for a second Yifan is convinced the other will simply keep silent, but then he replies, "You do know what eleven is, right?"

When Yifan just continues staring at him blankly in utter confusion, Yixing's grin widens even further. Yifan doesn't know how that's even possible, but somehow Yixing manages.

"Ten, plus one."

“Plus one? Are we invited to a wedding?” Yifan stammers the first thing that comes to his mind, as he still doesn’t get what’s going on.

Yixing, rather than taking pity on Yifan and his state of confusion, simply laughs. “Come on, Fanfan, it’s not that difficult.” Yixing frees one of his hands from Yifan’s hold and places it on his own chest. “Ten.” His hand then moves down to his stomach instead. “ _Plus one._ ”

Yifan’s about to say that he heard Yixing just fine the first time, he’s just unable to match Yixing’s visible elation to the, seemingly random, math equation. But, Yixing’s hand is still resting on his own stomach as he looks up at Yifan with expectant eyes. Then it all clicks.

Ten, _plus one._

"I-, What-, You-, I-, So you-, We-" His brain runs at a mile a minute, a million thoughts pushing themselves forward to be the first one to be voiced, and Yifan bites his tongue to stop the barrage of words falling from his lips. He forces himself to inhale once. "Are you trying to say...?"

Instead of answering, Yixing grins at him and moves the hand he had placed on his stomach into Yifan’s hold again, as if to strengthen their connection, before nodding slightly to urge Yifan to continue, wanting him to voice what he hasn't dared to yet. Yifan’s pulse is thundering in his ears when he eventually asks, "Are you... pregnant?"

His words are almost silent, tentative. He’s afraid he completely misread the situation and falsely got his hopes up. Still, at the same time he’s strangely certain all of a sudden.

Yixing laughs, the sound coming out sounding like half a sob and half a laugh, and with the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, Yifan assumes it really is a mixture of both. It's not really a reply but Yifan already knows that his guess is right, even before Yixing starts nodding.

All Yifan can do is gape, his hands grabbing Yixing's even tighter as his brain is still trying to process the new information, "Are you serious? Are you sure?"

He half-expects Yixing to scold him for the stupid questions—Yixing would never tell him something this big in jest—but the younger seems too out of it, simply returning the squeeze of Yifan's hands. "I just came from the doctor, they confirmed it. I'm pregnant. Fan, _I'm pregnant._ "

Finally it sinks in, and Yifan too finds a sob unexpectedly escaping his throat as his heartbeat quickens.

"Oh my god," he whispers, his voice shaking as his eyes stay fixed on Yixing's, "Oh my god, Yixing. _We're going to be parents._ "

Yixing nods again with his little sobbing laugh, and the next thing Yifan knows, he's let go of Yixing's hand to cup his cheeks instead, surging forward to lock lips with his husband. Their kiss is full of all the elation rushing through both of them, and Yixing's fingers immediately grab onto Yifan's shirt to draw him closer.

_We're going to be parents._

Yifan has always wanted children but nothing he imagined about finding out about them becoming parents got even close to how he's feeling right now. Speechless, overwhelmed, overjoyed.

"Wait." Yifan pulls back a little, Yixing looking at him in confusion at the sudden interruption. "So that night when we met with the guys? After we left the bar...?"

Yixing just blinks at him, and Yifan is just about to add, “Did we actually make a baby that night?” when the younger starts chuckling.

"No, stupid, that wasn’t even three weeks ago! That would be way too early for me to notice any symptoms. Or rather, at three weeks I didn't properly connect the symptoms to pregnancy yet. Nor would I have gone see a doctor because of them!"

It's not really difficult to put two and two together but Yifan still takes a moment. He blames it on the lingering shock, combined with the late hour. "So you mean that night..." he trails off, letting the end of the sentence hang in the air.

"I was already pregnant, yes," Yixing confirms the unvoiced question, his thumbs smoothing over the fabric of Yifan's shirt. "The doctor told me I'm six to seven weeks along. It's why I couldn't take the smell of my own shampoo and why I've been so exhausted, even though I've been sleeping more than usual."

Yifan's mouth opens in a small sound of understanding. Yixing is right, everything makes sense like this. Even though Yifan has had to focus a lot of his attention on their final games, there had been an ever-growing sense of worry about how quickly Yixing grew tired, how he constantly seemed to be on the verge of running a fever with how warm he was, how sensitive he suddenly was to smells when usually he couldn't have cared less about Yifan stir-frying eggs in the morning.

Yifan had refused to admit to it, but deep down his imagination had been running wild, coming up with exotic illnesses that Yixing might have contracted. Not once had it crossed his mind that the reason could have been something he had been wishing for for most his life.

“We’ll have to move to a bigger place after all,” Yifan blurts out as the thought suddenly crosses his mind, memories of months of house hunting flashing up again.

Yixing just chuckles and says. “Well, good thing I haven’t thrown out all those blueprints and ads yet.” Then Yixing tiptoes and steals another kiss, effectively postponing all organizational talk to a later point in time.

"You're pregnant," Yifan repeats in wonder when Yixing pulls back. He follows after his husband until he's hovering so close to Yixing that he can feel the younger's huffed laugh brush over his cheeks in a gust of air.

He has held Yixing in his arms just the night before so he knows there is no rounding to be felt yet, but his hands still travel down to splay against Yixing's stomach. In just a few months, there will be a bump forming where Yixing is carrying their child, and the very thought sends a new wave of disbelief riddled elation through him.

"I am," Yixing reaffirms, covering Yifan's hands with his own smaller ones.

XI

_“After losing quite harshly against the Shenzhen Leopards in the finals last season, the Guangzhou Southern Tigers have proven that they haven’t lost their bite. They have played excellent games so far. They returned from the break with newfound vigor and it seems like we're in for a very interesting season. Right now we have with us their number 11, Wu Yifan, who plays as the team's point guard. Thanks for joining us in—”_

Yifan walks into the room right when his own face appears on their television set, and he immediately grabs the remote and changes the channel to another program. A disgruntled whine comes from the couch, which has Yifan quickly crossing the room to press a placating kiss to the top of his husband's head.

"You know I hate seeing myself on TV," he argues as he sinks down next to Yixing, shifting so that the younger can climb into his lap.

"How is she doing today?" he asks once Yixing has settled against his chest, affectionately stroking over the stretch of Yixing's stomach.

"Calm. Perhaps she exhausted herself yesterday," Yixing jokes, his own hands coming up to cover Yifan's while the older presses a kiss to his shoulder.

Silence settles between them as Yixing's attention turns to the documentary that is playing now instead of the sports interview. Yifan, however, is too focused on bathing in Yixing's presence to listen to the deep, calming voice on TV droning on about the unique fauna of the amazon rainforest.

He gently caresses Yixing's baby bump, earning satisfied sighs from his husband. Yifan enjoys this, the calm intimacy, just the two of them. He can't help but wonder how much that will change once their daughter is born in just a few weeks. The thought both terrifies and thrills him, and he knows Yixing shares the sentiment. Jinfu told him he felt the same, as did his wife, as must all parents-to-be expecting their first child.

"Yixing?" He asks quietly when the documentary is long over already, the cooking show that replaced it only providing background noise as Yixing is dozing in his embrace.

The younger shifts slightly and blinks himself awake, humming sleepily to indicate that he's listening. Yifan coos internally at Yixing’s cuteness while pressing a quick peck to his husband's cheek. He he rests his chin on Yixing's shoulder.

"You know, I've been thinking."

Another hum as Yixing snuggles deeper into his husband's hold.

"I want to tell the public. About our eleven."

It was already unusual for well-known players to ask for a new number either way, but since everyone knew the story behind his "10“ it caused even more of an uproar when he suddenly stepped on the court with a bold, white "11“ on his back. Ever since the first game of the season there had been questions, about why he was no longer playing with his old number. Yifan, however, kept mum.

He and Yixing hadn't wanted to let anyone know in the first trimester, too afraid of unforeseen complications, but somewhere along the way they either forgot that the wider public didn’t know or kept putting off figuring out how to reveal their upcoming child. Now, with Yixing almost eight months along and heavily pregnant, Yifan decided that it is time.

"I'm fine with whatever you decide," Yixing smiles down at where Yifan's hands are soothing over the stretched skin of his belly.

"Thank you," Yifan whispers, leaning in to nose along Yixing's cheek before confessing. "I already have an idea for it."

Yixing twists his head to look at his husband questioningly but instead of clarifying Yifan just smiles back at him mysteriously before telling the other that he'll find out soon.

The next day sees them in their living room, Yixing's camera perched atop a tripod standing on one side of the room while its owner is standing a few feet away from it. Yixing is shirtless, his baby bump on full display as Yifan fiddles with the camera’s settings and adjusts the angle to perfectly capture Yixing.

When he is satisfied, he sets the self-timer to twenty seconds, giving him more than enough time to walk over to his husband. He moves to stand behind Yixing, his large hands framing Yixing’s bulging belly.

"Hey, gorgeous." Yifan smiles brightly when Yixing twists his head to look up at him.

Yixing mirrors the expression when their gazes meet, his eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as his dimple presses into his cheek. "Hey, handsome."

Yifan barely hears the beeping of the self-timer getting faster as he leans down, Yixing rising to his toes just the slightest bit to meet his husband halfway. Their lips brush together in a tender kiss, and Yifan smiles against Yixing's mouth before pressing forward until the younger has the soles of his feet firmly planted to the floor again. They don't break away even when the sound of the shutter reaches their ears, too caught up in their own world.

They take a few more pictures and spend almost half an hour experimenting with poses and perspectives. As soon as they're done, Yifan retrieves the camera's SD card, not allowing Yixing to take a look at the pictures just yet. The younger whines at him, about wanting to have a look, but Yifan insists that he has to complete his preparations for his intended baby reveal first. Grumbling to himself, Yixing admits defeat quickly.

It takes almost an hour before Yifan resurfaces from the office, his phone in hand.

"What do you think?" He asks, passing the device over to Yixing who raises an eyebrow in question.

It takes him one look at the screen to break into a laugh. "You're so cheesy. There must be a million couples who have announced they’re expecting just like this."

"I don't care. And besides, it’s _us_. What better way could there be to show our _eleven_ to the world?"

Yixing just shakes his head in disbelief at Yifan’s cheesiness, but his fond smile is telling when he turns to look at the phone again.

The display is showing a drafted Weibo post, already edited and captioned, ready to be published. The picture Yifan has chosen is the first one they took, the one that later ends up standing framed in their living room; the one where the lingering smile is still tugging at the corners of their lips while Yifan leans down to kiss him.

For Weibo, Yifan has chosen a cutout of the picture however. It shows little more than the middle of Yixing's body, their faces and legs hidden from view. It’s the first time for Yifan to post a picture to any of his SNS accounts that features Yixing, but like this Yixing’s identity remains hidden. Yixing has often marveled at the size of Yifan's hands, so much bigger than his own that they always make him feel small, secure. Yifan can hold a basketball in one hand, and even though Yixing's bump has grown to an impressive size, Yifan has managed to form a heart with his hands. It frames the white "11" they have painted on Yixing's exposed belly.

The accompanying caption is simple.

_"10+1"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning this fic since last year, when Yifan first wore the "11" and my Fanxing-biased brain had to find a Fanxing-centered explanation. So there you have it, my explanation as for why Yifan's been playing as "11" instead of "10".


End file.
